A little story by Hanna Huia.
Glitter on my finger tips from the novelty sun glasses at the Houhora gas station. I twist your hair around my fingers and think if the sparkle falls in your hair it will be fine.
You drive fast on these dry open roads, but at least we’re off the gravel.
I can see the reflection of the water bottle in the windscreen. The water vibrates when we go over bumps.
Rarawera was further away than we thought eh? Lucky we got gas.
Back on the gravel we have to turn off the music coz it’ll skip. But I know you’ll keep singing.
I’m breathing in the gravel dust but it’s too hot to wind up the windows.
You’re still driving fast. I’m nervous again. Don’t you know the gravel is slippery?
But we make it. We always make it. I’m a bit of a worry wart eh?
That red Ute filled with powdered locals and fishing rods has a dog on the back. He’s drooling over all of their stuff. He looks uncomfortable in this heavy heat. Poor thing.
The sand is so white and soft it is squeaking under me. I grind my teeth when I walk. I don’t like the sound.
I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a shell ring for Kate, because I know she wants one.
I don’t mind where we sit. I’m not very good at making decisions today.
It’s funny when there’s heaps of cars on the beach. They don’t match the squeaky sand.
I pick my nose when you’re not looking. It’s the colour of the dust. I knew it would be.
There’s a little brown spider on our blanket. I’ll save it. I wonder if my constant insect saving annoys you. I remember my horror that time in the kitchen, you killed a mosquito. I nearly cried.
When I kiss you under the umbrella I know my lips are dry from the sun. You wet them a little bit with your tongue. I tingle a little bit. I love kissing you. I love kissing you this summer. I’ve always loved kissing you but I love kissing you this summer especially. I know you like it because your hands move over my body. I tingle a little bit more. Let’s stay here awhile.